HATE CHRONICLES: The Uncomfortable Edition

There are times when you need to plow through the discomfort in order to move forward in life and then there are times when you’re just like ‘fuck this, I want my shit how I want it and I want it now’. There have been all too many times in my own life where the littlest of things aggravated me to the point of muttering the “H” word. In reality, I don’t believe that I possess any actual hate towards these things, but in the moment, I can’t help but ‘argh’ about it, and I’m sure you can relate to at least half of these.

PILLOWS – Sounds ridiculous, I know. Who hates pillows? Well… I hate when there’s too many of them and they’re all up in your face and under your shoulders, taking up space, like a bunch of tiny little human lumps in the way of the sleeping zone! One good pillow is all I need. Just one. Maybe throw in a body pillow for good measure every now and then, but that is all! Throw pillows are a waste if they’re tiny; you spend way too much time towards arranging them on the bed in the morning and putting them away before you go to sleep. Big throw pillows are okay, but only if there’s a maximum of two and you’re using them as back support to read a book or something equivalent; otherwise they’re annoying and make your bed look overcrowded. Like, would you like some bed with your pillows?

SLEEPING IN CLOTHES – I vote sleeping Naked all the way. Otherwise, my body doesn’t rest properly and the temperature is never right. Even when I’m cold I’d rather be naked under the blanket and hug myself for warmth; it sounds weird but it works wonders. The only few times you will catch me sleeping in clothes are the following: If I am sick and I need an extra layer to sweat the grossness out and into; If I am crashing on someone’s couch and there are strangers around or if I am just plain old passed out drunk and simply didn’t have the energy to take my clothes off. Any other time I am wearing that which I was when I popped out of my mommy’s fun hole. Speaking of fun holes, I just remembered another time I’d be wearing clothes while sleeping. When I’m with a new prospect victim and we happen to be snuggling but are still in the stage where the fun hole is off limits, yeah, I’m putting on a couple of light layers out of mere courtesy. I may be evil sometimes, but I wouldn’t torture someone like that.

LEATHER CAR SEATS – While they look nice, which I adore, they are extremely impractical. When it’s cold outside, they’re freezing. When it’s hot outside, you get burns on your butt. Not fun. What’s left to do? Put a towel over your seat? That’s lame and totally defeats the appeal purpose of the original leather seats; might as well have fabric if you’re gonna mess with things like ‘towels’.

WINTER– Sure, it’s a magical wonderland; it’s also cold as fuck and you need to put several layers on every time you leave the house whether it’s to go to work or to merely check the mail. You also need to take off all of those layers every time you get home or whatever arriving point. Not to mention the having to warm up your car because it is as cold as a Russian soul when you get into it. And if you don’t have a car, then you’re stuck standing outside in the cold waiting for a cab, and to be quite honest, I don’t know which one is worse. Plus, God forbid those layers get wet; the wetness seeps through all of them down to the one that’s closest to your body which is bound to make you even colder and oddly enough, or not oddly at all, that is precisely how you catch a cold. Brrr.

MY SEAT AT THE BAR BEING TAKEN – Granted, I don’t exactly have a plaque with my name on it at my ‘regular’ bar. Although I should, considering how often I show up there and how much money I spend. Having said that, I should point out that I do have a favorite place to sit at every place that I go to. And while I realize that I have no rightful claim to my throne, it still upsets me not being able to come in there ‘Cheers’ style and plop myself into my usual chair that’s already molded with my ass print and obviously aching for my company, not that of a random person who decided to take over, not knowing that I was on my way.

TALKING ON THE PHONE – As much as I love the idea of an ‘old fashioned’ concept that people who defend talking on the phone instead of texting hide behind, the truth is that if you really wanna be old fashioned, come throw tiny rocks at my window and bring a boom box. I hate talking on the phone. You’re forced to sit there listening to the silence while waiting for the other person to formulate a response… I get super anxious; there are so many other things I could be doing right now! And it’s one thing if you can just be like ‘Okay, this conversation is taking too long, text me later’, but that’s rude… So you continue to sit there through the uncomfortable silences.

BIG PURSES – Hate them. Have tons of them but hate them with a passion. No matter how organized you try to keep them, you always end up looking like a homeless person that belongs on Santa Monica pier, pretending to be a hipster. As long as you are an owner of a large purse, you will eventually fill it with everything you own, allowing it to take over your life; become a part of you. You carry your gigantic bag filled with useful and useless insanities everywhere and you get anxiety just thinking about the fact that the two of you might get separated. At the end of the day it’s more of a burden than something that’s designed to help you.

SMALL PURSES – Hate them even more than big purses. Nothing fits! It just ends up being the big purse’ pretentious little cousin, bulging at the seams. You finally get away from the big guy and move on to smaller cuter things, and you think to yourself ‘Today is the day I switch to small purses forever. I am no longer the hoarder of Band-Aids, lotions, pens, wine keys, Visine and other inane but very “important” things…’ But no such luck; life has a whole different plan for you and your accessories. All of those things will eventually find their way back into your now tiny purse, raping the hell out of your zippers and lining. Obviously affected by such happenings, you will then either take all of your belongings, burn them and go live in the forest with the birdies, or just resume back to the big purse. Endless, evil cycle.

CLOTHES THAT DON’T FIT – Goes hand in hand with getting fat, which I also hate. You take a pair of jeans out of your closet that you used to fit like a glove, and you slide them on only to realize that the rolls of fat you’ve recently acquired are in the way of actual closure. You may try and pull all the tricks that are shown in the movies, where you suck in the gut and jump around, swinging your legs up in the air, but all you’re gonna get after finally getting that button closed is a major muffin top. I hate wearing clothes that obviously don’t fit, and quite frankly I hate watching other people do that too. I would never sport a muffin top – I will sooner rock sweatpants in the summer. Another option is to go out and buy the right, larger size of jeans but that’s just taking away from the motivation of getting back in shape, so sweatpants it is.